


Millionaires

by americanhoney913



Category: Ocean's (Movies), Ocean's 8 (2018), Ocean's Eight (2018) RPF
Genre: F/F, Fluff, New York City, Night on the town, Sarah knows things, Soft Kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 14:13:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15390519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americanhoney913/pseuds/americanhoney913
Summary: Lost my heart and I hope to die, see in that sunlight hit your eyesBeen up all night but you still look amazin' to me, yeahHad the type of night you only dream aboutIf God came down he could take me now***Look at us, it's 6 in the mornin'If time was money, then we'd be worth a fortuneI swear, you may think you're richYou can have a million euros but you can't buy this--- Millionaires by The Script





	Millionaires

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you [Ocean's Gayight](https://oceans-gayight.tumblr.com/%E2%80%9D) for the beta help!
> 
> Usual RPF disclaimers: none of this is real. No disrespect is meant, suspend reality. Cate and Sandra are both single but they still have the kids.

Filming at night had always been a pain, but it seemed to be less of a pain when she was surrounded by this amazing group of women. Sandra shoves her hands into the pockets of one of her character’s jackets and sighs, leaning against the nearest wall. It’s December, so the concrete against her back and the thin material isn’t helping. She watches through the window as Gary talks to Annie and Helena inside the restaurant where Daphne Kluger and Rose Weil meet for the first time.

“Here,” a smooth voice says from next to her. Sandra turns from the scene and the cameras and her fellow actresses to find her co-lead standing in front of her, holding out one of those huge black down coat. “Take this. You look like you’re gonna freeze your tits off.”

Sandra snorts and takes the jacket from Cate, a small smile on her face. “Thanks.” She wraps herself in it, hoping to warm up soon. December in New York is much colder than in New Orleans. Cate’s in her scene outfit, the down jacket hanging loosely from her shoulders, like it could fall off at any minute.

Sometimes Sandra wonders how lucky she must be to work alongside such an amazingly talented actress. One she’s been wanting to work with forever. Cate Blanchett, the famed actress that can do anything, beloved by all. And her eyes are so goddam blue that Sandra feels like she’s drowning in the ocean. Which is funny, because she’s supposed to be the Ocean in this relationship.

Cate’s smile in response shows off her laugh lines and crow’s feet. Sandra knows what age does to some people, what it’s done to her but, on Cate, age looks amazing. 

“God, I need a drink.” Sarah’s voice breaks her from her admiration and she turns to see the other blonde staring at her, a questioning look on her face. Whoops. Hopefully, her friend won’t ask.

“That’s a mood,” Annie says as she comes out of the restaurant, pulling on her own matching black down jacket. 

All of the main cast have them because all of their apparel is mostly spring and summer fashion, so it’s not ideal weather to wear skin-tight suites for Cate and thin dresses for her. Annie’s dresses are pretty low cut, so her shoulders get cold, but the bottom and lining of some of the dresses have fleece to keep her warm. Sandra’s kinda jealous because all her dresses have either cut-out panels or gossamer fabric to show off some skin.

Helena comes up behind Annie, brushing invisible lint off of her dress. She pulls her gloves off and runs a hand over the birds nest that is her hair. “I think I’ll head back the hotel,” she tells them. “I’ve got an early call time tomorrow with Mindy to do the Cartier scene. I can’t survive on coffee alone like some of you.”

“Well, have a good rest.” Cate pats Helena on the back. “We won’t have too much fun without you.”

Annie beams. “I’ll take tons of pictures!”

* * *

They find a bar with live music to grab drinks at. It smells like alcohol and sweat and perfume and cologne. There’s a smoky, hazy quality to the air that makes the brunette feels like she’s almost in a dream. The crowd sways to the live music coming from the stage up front next to the bar. 

Some woman is crooning into the mic about forbidden love and Sandra, against what her brain is telling her, looks over at Cate. She’s got a tumbler of whiskey and ice clinking around as she swirls it. It’s almost hypnotic and Sandra watches as the blonde takes a pull from the cup, her lips wrapping around the glass.

Something knocks into her ribs and she yelps, rubbing her side and turning to the side to glare at Sarah. Brown eyes narrow in response and Sarah jerks her head to the side, like she wants Sandra to follow her. She doesn’t but she can’t help glace back to see Cate smirking at her as if she knows what’s going on.

“What are you doing?” Sarah hisses as soon as they’re far enough away from Cate and Annie. 

“I don’t know, Sarah,” Sandra retorts ,  “What am I doing?”

“You’re staring at Cate like you either wanna take her home or have her babies,” Sarah says like it’s obvious. “I don’t know. It’s just, you gotta be careful, Sandy.”

Sandra scoffs. “We’re just friends, Sarah,” she says, but it sounds like a lie, even to her own ears. “Look, I’m not gonna start anything, okay.”

“Okay, Sandy,” Sarah says with a sigh. She heads back to the bar, joining the conversation. Sandra stays behind for a moment, gathering herself before she follows Sarah and joins Cate and Annie. She shoulders her way next to Cate and orders a martini, shaken, with two olives floating in the clear liquid. The Aussie chuckles and leans on her elbows against the bar, arching her back in a tantalizing way without even looking like she’s trying. God, Sandra wishes she could be that smooth.

Sarah coughs from where she’s standing with Annie. The brunette’s got her phone out, flicking through the pictures of what Sandra can only assume are her dogs. Sarah always gets excited when she sees animals, so Annie gravitates to her when she wants to gush about her dogs. Sandra glares at Sarah before she turns back to Cate.

Maybe if she can just drown herself in Cate’s accent and her crisp scent and this drink, she won’t have to think about how right Sarah is.

* * *

The bar stays open until around 2am. Annie heads out first because, apparently, all that talk of her dogs mixed with the drinks she’s had, made her teary-eyed and wanting to go home. Sarah, being the mom friend that she is, takes it upon herself to wish the two remaining good night. Sandra and Cate follow them out to hug them goodbye, Sandra wiping Annie's tears away with a laugh.

“You’re gonna see your dogs in a minute, babe,” she says. “No need to cry.” Cate snickers behind her.

Annie laughs out a sob, beaming as Sarah heards her into the car. Sarah smiles at them and gives them a little five-finger wave, giving Sandra a raised eyebrow as if asking if she’ll be okay alone with Cate. Sandra just nods and Sarah nods back.

Whatever happens, it’s in Sandra’s hands now.

* * *

“Mama, _just killed a man_ ,” Cate sings as she slings her arm over Sandra’s shoulder. She puts a finger gun to the brunette's forehead. “ _Put a gun against his head. Pulled my trigger, now he's dead._ ”

Sandra continues, hand over her heart. “ _Mama, life had just begun. But now I've gone and thrown it all away._ "

“ _Mama,_ ooo,” they sing together, swaying back and forth. “ _Didn't mean to make you cry. If I'm not back again this time tomorrow. Carry on, carry on._ ” 

“ _As if nothing really matters,_ ” Sandra sings the last line of the stanza. She presses her forehead against Cate’s neck and sighs. Her head’s kinda spinning from the combination of Cate’s delicious scent and the amount of alcohol she’s consumed. Not enough to get her blackout drunk, but just enough to give her a comfortable buzz. The song continues and they try to sing every word at the top of their lungs. Sandra never expected, even screaming it, that Cate would have such a good voice. Not that she expected anything less from one of the best in the business. 

“Um, excuse me.” Sandra looks up from Cate’s shoulder to find a young woman standing in front of them, a blush covering her cheeks and collarbone. “We’re, uh, we’re closing.”

“Oh,” Cate says, putting her drink down on the counter. “I’m sorry. We’ll get out of your hair.”

Sandra grabs Cate’s whiskey glass and her own martini glass and puts them in a black bin where the server is standing. “Thanks for letting us know,” Sandra says, as Cate wraps an arm around Sandra’s waist. “Have a nice night!” She makes sure to hand the woman a $20 bill before they leave.

“Where the fuck are we gonna go at 2am?” Cate asks as they step outside. It’s warmer than usual, which is odd because it was cold earlier and it's fucking December, but Sandra doesn't question it. She begins to shed her coat but, before she can do anything, the Aussie grabs it and slings it over her arm. “Nothing’s open.”

“It’s NYC, babe,” Sandra answers. “I’m sure something will be open.”

Cate wiggles her eyebrows. “I’m sure we can find something fun to do.”

Sandra can’t stop her heart from skipping a few beats. Maybe Sarah was right to warn her.

She’s completely gone for this woman.

* * *

Cate wraps an arm around Sandra’s shoulders as they walk towards nowhere. The brunette shines like the sun, even in the early morning when all is dark but the city lights. Sandra’s eyes sparkle with bits of gold and green when Cate stares down at her.

“The park’s open. We could go chill there. Walk to the MET when the sun rises?” Sandra says. Honestly, Cate thinks, she would follow Sandra to the ends of the Earth for her, but of course, she’d never say it out loud.

“Sounds good. Never been to Central Park at night.”

“Have you been to Central Park at all?”

“Couple times.”

Sandra doesn’t say anything else, just wraps her arm around Cate’s and rests her head on her shoulder. If Cate closes her eyes, she can almost imagine the two of them taking a midnight stroll as a couple. She can imagine their kids getting along and playing together. It might be a pipe dream, but Cate’s always been told she’d had a vivid imagination.

They walk far enough into the park that Sandra begins to complain that walking the park paths wasn’t such a good idea.

“Give ‘em here,” Cate says, holding out her arm. Sandra leans on her, pressing her hand against Cate’s shoulder and pulls off her heels. Sometimes, Cate’s grateful she likes flats and boots more than heels, even though she’ll wear them on occasion. When Sandra’s done removing her second shoe, she looks up at Cate, one eyebrow raised. The blonde says nothing, just sticks out three fingers. Sandra chuckles and hangs her shoes by the straps.

“You’re such a gentleman,” Sandra says, fluttering her eyelashes in an over-exaggerated way.

“I’ll try to be gentle, man,” Cate says as she finger-guns in Sandra’s direction. Sandra tries to hold in her laughter by pressing the back of her hand against her mouth. However, the blonde watches as the brunette’s smile peaks from behind her hand and then she’s doubling over, laughter spilling from her lips. It sounds rough, yet it’s very pleasing to the ears. A kind of barking laughter that comes from the gut.

Cate wraps an arm around Sandra’s waist and the two continue on their midnight journey.

* * *

They end up across the pond from a beautiful castle that looks almost Gothic in style, with some other kind of design Cate can’t figure out. Even though it’s about 3am now, the rock Sandra chooses for them to sit on still has remnant warmth from the weak sunlight of the December day. Cate makes her stand back up so she can put Sandra’s coat down as a kind of barrier because, even if the stone might be slightly warm, Sandra’s legs are bare-- and smooth and now Cate’s thinking about Sandra’s long legs and-- and they might get cold, Cate, don’t think about anything else.

“My lady,” Cate drawls, laying the accent on thick, as she makes a sweeping gesture at the coat. Sandra takes her hand and gracefully sits down, like some kind of Disney princess bullshit. Cate swoops down next to her and Sandra rests her head on Cate’s shoulder.

It’s quiet for the city at night, honking cars in the distance and the rumble of trucks, but those are distance sounds. The castle across from them in deep in the heart of Central Park, about ten minutes from the MET on foot, Cate discovered after looking it up. 

Sandra’s leaning heavy against her, like she’s falling asleep, but then she speaks up. “It’s too quiet.”

Cate smiles and reaches over, tugs on a piece of Sandra's hair. It's got some streaks of lighter brown, almost like golden threads. “Did it hurt? When you fell from heaven?” she says.

Sandra pulls up from her shoulder and chuckles. “What?”

“Is it hot in here or is it just you?”

Sandra rolls her eyes and Cate knows that she knows where this is going. “We're outside in December, Cate,” the brunette says, playing along.

“Aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?” Cate asks, using that high-pitched voice that no one finds sexy. Sandra laughs, head thrown back to expose her neck. 

“You look like my next girlfriend,” Cate says and Sandra, who had been laughing a minute ago, closes her mouth and her face goes slack.

Sandra pulls away slightly and turns away. Cate pauses, realizes what she's just said, and reaches out.

This whole experience, shooting Ocean's 8 with seven other amazing women and an amazing director and it's just… it's been a journey.  But the best part has been seeing Sandra every day, watching her transform into Debbie on set and being allowed to play her partner in crime-- and more if the way they were asked to play it was anything to go by-- it's a privilege.

“I,” Cate pauses, “I'm sorry. That was a little out of hand.”

Sandra shakes her head and wraps her as around her knees, folds them against her chest. Her eyes, shining in the orange streetlight glow, looks dim. “It's not your fault. I was just surprised, that's all.”

Cate doesn't know what to do with her hands, so they kind of just move around in the air as she tries to think of something to say. Sandra chuckles and grabs one of Cate's flailing arms and wraps it around her shoulder. She snuggles in, breath tickling Cate's jaw.

“This is nice,” the brunette whispers. She buries her face against Cate's neck, making the blonde chuckle.

“What time is it?”

Sandra shoves hers her wrist right in front of Cate's nose, almost smacking her in the face. 

“Oi! You almost broke my nose.” Cate nudges Sandra as the two laugh. She grabs Sandra's wrist and taps the screen on her Fitbit. “We've been sitting here for like two hours.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah, it's like 5:30am.”

“Wow. I didn't even realize.”

Cate smiles, pressing her nose to the top of Sandra's head. She smells like gingerbread and spices and all things that remind Cate of Christmas. It’s perfect because, well, it’s almost Christmas and, even though there’s no snow on the ground and it’s probably one of the mildest winters Cate’s experienced so far, but it’s nice to still feel the chill and cuddle up to the people you lo--like. The people you like. That’s what she meant.

Something pokes her in the stomach and she yelps. “Stop that,” she says as Sandra pokes her again. “You know I’m ticklish.” Sandra smiles and Cate knows she’s remembering something they filmed for the blooper reel. Fina had started a “how ticklish is my castmate” segment and the discovery that Cate and Sarah wouldn’t stop laughing for a few minutes after you stopped tickling them was the best.

“Yeah, but you like it.”

Cate wiggled her eyebrows. “Oh, honey, you know I do.”

Sandra blushes and buries her face in Cate’s arm. “You have to stop doing that,” the brunette says. “Especially once the press tour starts.”

“Why? You don’t like it when I flirt with you?” Cate pouts in a way that’s a cross between adorable and comedic. 

“I, um, well,” Sandra stammers. When Cate looks down, there’s a faint blush coloring her cheeks in the orange streetlights. “I mean, I don’t hate it? But you can’t do it during interviews and shit.”

“Fine.” Cate wraps her arm around Sandra’s shoulder. “I’ll  _ try _ to stop flirting with you.”

Sandra tugs on a strand of Cate’s hair. “Sarah’s already getting suspicious. She gave me ‘the talk’ earlier at the bar.” She uses air quotes with one hand.

“Sarah’s been suspicious since you set foot on set and I couldn’t stop drooling,” Cate tells her. Sandra laughs into the blonde’s skin. “I’m serious. She had to pinch me several times before I stopped.”

“I can see that. Though I’m surprised she didn’t do something worse.”

“It doesn’t matter now. We’re here now. Together.”

Sandra laughs again and Cate thinks it feels like warmth straight to her heart and then realizes that’s crazy, because how can laughter feel like anything? It might sound beautiful and light but it can’t feel like warmth or sunshine but that’s all Cate is coming up with and goddamnit she’s falling further into her crush on this beautiful woman.

* * *

It feels like hours before the sun starts to rise. When Sandra checks her watch again, it’s almost six in the morning. Cate’s face looks radiant in the pale gray of the weak sunlight trying to peek through. She’d fallen asleep about half an hour ago if the sun is anything to go by. Her pale skin makes her look almost luminescent in the streetlights. She looks beautiful all the time, but here, at six in the morning, it isn’t something money can buy. She could have millions of dollars like Debbie, but she could never buy this moment.

Her alarm goes off, signifying they’ve to head back to the museum for an early call-time. They’re filming the scene where Debbie checks the blind spot early in the morning so that people can still use parts of the museum while they’re filming and obviously that includes the blind spot bathroom.

“Cate,” Sandra wiggles her shoulder. “Cate, wake up.”

The blonde mumbles and Sandra freezes as Cate mouths at the side of her neck. It’s obvious it’s an involuntary thing, like smacking your lips when you wake up. It just sends a shiver up Sandra’s spine and she doesn’t want Cate to stop but she also doesn’t want her to accidentally leave a hickey. She shakes her shoulder and has to grab Cate before she topples over in the other direction.

“I’m up. I’m up.” Cate shoots up and holds her hands up, like she’s been pulled over by the cops. She looks fucking ridiculous, but it just makes Sandra love-- like her more. Sandra finds herself nose to nose with Cate when she turns around. Her blue eyes sparkle with bits of sea glass. The blonde’s eyes flick down and back to Sandra’s eyes.

“Hi,” Cate whispers.

“Hi,” Sandra responds.

The blonde hesitates for a minute, eyes flicking back and forth like she’s trying to find something, before she leans forward. The kiss is soft, subtle, and Sandra just wants more. Not deeper, or dirtier, or anything else. Just more of the soft, gentle press of Cate’s lips against hers. She feels the blonde’s hand reach out and cup the back of her neck, cradling it as Sandra’s hand wraps around her bicep.

Cate’s kiss is a question. A question with an answer. Sandra smiles and hums, but doesn’t deepen the kiss. That might come later-- much later- after they’ve figured out what exactly  _ this _ is and where it’s going.

Sandra suddenly understands why people describe kissing as melting because everywhere they're bodies touch, she dissolves into Cate. She presses closer, feel Cate’s mouth curve into a smile against her own and she pulls away to watch the blue of her eyes explode in happiness, the sea glass sparling even more. The sun pushes through the clouds as dawn breaks over the horizon, making Cate's hair become a wild nest of golden silk.

“You look beautiful,” Sandra says because she can't hold in the awe she holds for this woman.

“You don't look too bad yourself for someone who fell asleep in the park.”

Sandra shakes her head as her second alarm goes off. 6:45am. They really have to go.

She stands up and holds out her hand. “I'm not the one who fell asleep,” she reminds the blonde as she helps her up. “I think I've got drool on my shoulder to prove it.”

Cate laughs and picks the coat up. She wraps it around Sandra's shoulders, smoothing out the wrinkles and pulling it tight under the brunette's neck. “There,” she says. “Pretty as a picture.”

Sandra lifts up on her toes to reach Cate's mouth. The rock they're standing on has a slight incline and it doesn't help that Sandra's a bit shorter than Cate. She cups Cate's cheek, tracing her jawline with her thumb as she kisses her, soft and sweet and slow. It's not a goodbye kiss, but something else Sandra can't explain. 

“We should probably go before Gary gets suspicious and Sarah spills her guts,” Cate says when she pulls away. Sandra nods and, arm in arm, they make their way back to the MET. 

As soon as they can see the front of the building, with its gleaming columns and large staircase, Cate turns to Sandra and gives her one last peck on the lips

“I must be in a museum,” Cate whispers in her ear, “because you truly are a work of art.”

Sandra can't help but snort into her palm.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys liked it. I was inspired by The Script's 'Millionaires' while on my way home one day. I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. 
> 
> Please leave a comment or a kudos.
> 
> Thanks, guys!


End file.
